Emergency Call
by TheCanadianConspiracy
Summary: AU two-shot. Arthur, a university student, gets hit on by a certain annoying American in the school library. He calls Francis for advice. Pairings: America/England and France/Canada, with Hungary/Austria and minor Germany/Italy in the second chapter.
1. Emergency Call

**Emergency Call**

Francis could appreciate many things in life: good food, good wine, and the cute little Canadian lying next to him in bed. But if there was one thing he did _not_ appreciate, it was getting woken up by an unexpected phone call at five-thirty in the morning – far too early to wake up, let alone have a conversation. Worse still, the phone rang insistently; there was no ignoring it. After groping around his bedstand in the dark for a minute, he found the telephone and snatched it up.

"This better be important," he growled into the receiver. "Because if it isn't, so help me God, I'll - "

"Francis, it's me, Arthur."

The Frenchman heaved a long-suffering sigh and collapsed back into the mattress. He felt Matthew shift beside him. "What is it, _Sourcils_?"

"It's – I have – I don't know what to do," he whispered.

Francis rolled his eyes. "Do tell. I love nothing more than listening to your problems at - " He glanced at the glowing red numbers of his digital alarm clock. "Five-thirty-five in the morning."

"Shut up, Frog. I'm running out of time here."

At that moment, the Canadian sat up a little next to his lover, rubbing his eyes. "Mm, Francis, what is it?"

"_Ce n'est rien, Mathieu_. Go back to sleep." He stroked a hand through the blond boy's hair before turning back to the phone. Matthew shrugged and rolled over.

There was a pause. Then, "_Matthew?_" Arthur asked incredulously. 'Wait, what are you doing there? Francis didn't rape you, did he? I can call the police for you if you want, Matthew, there's no need to suffer in silence - "

"What is the emergency?" Francis cut in. "Did someone finally die from eating your terrible cooking?"

Arthur flushed bright red on the other end, hiding his face behind the black box of the payphone. "No!" Matthew had already left his mind. "I'm stuck outside the library, and - " His voice lowered. "And I need your advice."

"_Moi,_ _Sourcils_? I am flattered." Francis flipped his silky hair back. "What is so urgent that you need my advice?"

"Don't let your ego grow as fat as your head. You're just the first person I could think of. The thing is, I need a book in the library, but _he's_ there."

Francis vaguely wondered what kind of person needed to be in the library so early in the morning. He didn't even know that the library was open at that hour.

"Who?" he asked.

"You know," the other mumbled. "That tosser, the stupid annoying American."

Francis could've laughed, but he didn't want to disturb his sleeping boyfriend. "Is that it? Afraid of the big bad Alfred?"

The Brit scoffed. "N-no! It's just that – well - " He felt the heat rising up in his face again, and held tighter to the payphone with his clammy palm. "He keeps – um . . . "

"He keeps what?" Francis picked at a fingernail, a little smirk on his face. He was actually beginning to enjoy this conversation, despite its unfortunate timing.

"W-well . . . " He drew away from the payphone to glance through the window of the library doors. "I think he keeps trying to hit on me."

Arthur kneaded one of his temples and waited for Francis' reaction. If he craned his neck far enough from where he stood, out of sight from the library, he could just see the source of his problems, sitting at one of the long wooden tables, reading a book about airplanes. He looked innocent enough, but Arthur knew better. That American was out to _seduce_ him, by God, and he didn't like it. Not at all. Not even a tiny bit.

He first went to the library about thirty minutes ago, as soon as it opened to the students. Arthur had a major psychology exam in the morning, and he wanted to study as much as possible; after his breakfast of tea and (store-bought) crumpets, he rushed to the library, intending to read a few books and check his notes in peace and quiet, making the most efficient possible use of his time.

That, he found out, was a pipe dream as soon as Alfred came in and decided to sit at his table.

The American had plopped down across from him, plunking his coffee cup down on the table, resting his elbows on the wood. He stared at Arthur and tapped his fingers nonstop. When even his_ breathing_ got a little too loud, the Brit finally looked up from his book on mental disorders to send him his best death glare.

"What do you want?" he snapped.

Alfred just smiled, oblivious to the rude treatment. "Hiya!" he said, waving.

Arthur remembered raising an eyebrow at his horribly handsome face, feeling a light blush dusting his cheeks. "Hello," he said. Well, he didn't really want to talk to him, of course not, brushing up on his knowledge of the causes of schizophrenia was much more interesting. He decided he would just afford Alfred the bare minimum of courtesy, like he always did, as long as he didn't bother him too much. Yes, that was the plan.

Plans always seemed to go straight out the window where Alfred was concerned, though.

The Brit turned back to his book, studying a picture of a brain scan. Alfred had miraculously fallen quiet, sipping his coffee, and Arthur found himself pleased – yet strangely disappointed – that he could focus on his task. He had just finished reading the section on environmental factors related to schizophrenia, however, when he felt his concentration jolted. A foot was rubbing against his leg.

"You git," he hissed. Arthur kicked the American's foot away, and he looked at him innocently, hands clasped together on the table. "What the fuck are you doing!?" _So much for being polite_.

"Nothing," Alfred replied. "Why so uptight? It's not healthy to raise your blood pressure so early in the morning, Iggy."

'Iggy' rolled his eyes. "Why are you even here?"

The blue-eyed one smirked and leaned back in his chair. "I dunno. Why are _you_ here?"

Arthur sighed, snapping his book shut. He wasn't going to get any work done, sitting here. "I'm taking a very important examination in a few hours. Unlike you, I value an education. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to study." Arthur got up and walked away, towards another table. Alfred followed him.

"Nobody's here~" he sang. "Just you and me, Iggy. We can be as _loud_ as we want."

Arthur turned around and regretted it immediately. The American was leaning against a bookshelf with a suggestive pose, _winking_ at him.

"Y-you're disgusting," he said, blushing to the tips of his ears. He dropped into a chair at a new table, in a different section of the library. "Please, leave me alone."

Alfred sat next to him. "That's so not cool. You should be happy that I like you."

The green-eyed Brit cracked open his textbook, willing himself to avoid eye contact. "Some of us actually come here to do work, and not to try to pick up people."

"You think I do this all the time?" Alfred had pouted and shifted closer to the other. Arthur glanced towards him, but otherwise made no move away from his book. "That I try to hook up with people in libraries?"

Arthur licked his lips, staring intently at the words before him. "Maybe," he said distractedly. "I don't know. You're pretty strange."

"Hahaha!" Alfred drew back, laughing, before leaning even closer to the shorter man. "You're so cute, Iggy. After your exam thingy is over, how about we go for coffee?"

Alfred had leaned so close now, practically sitting on Arthur's lap, and he could feel his breath on his neck. It was awfully distracting. He had opened his mouth to reply, and -

"You _think_ he keeps trying to hit on you?"

The Brit was snapped out of his reveries at the sound of Francis' voice. He sighed, swallowed a mouthful of spit, and shook his head.

"Well . . . OK. Yeah. He asked me out." He cursed inwardly when he felt that damned blush returning.

Francis couldn't help but smirk at that. He shifted the phone to his other ear. "And then what did you say?"

"That I had to go. And that's up to now."

"Hmm. The question is, _Sourcils_, do you want to go out with him?"

Arthur opened and closed his mouth several times.

"_Sourcils_? I'm waiting," Francis said.

"No!" Arthur shouted. Francis held the phone at a distance, wincing. "I mean – yes! I mean no! I mean . . . " He sighed and rumpled his messy blond hair. "I don't know what I want . . . " he finished in a small voice.

The Frenchman returned the phone to his ear. "Well, if you are not interested, then just tell him you are not interested. And if you are, then just say yes, you would like to - "

"I bloody well know how to accept a date invitation, stupid Frog!" Arthur resisted the urge to put his fist through the wall. Instead, he banged his head against the payphone box and groaned. "Can't you just . . . " He glanced back into the library. Alfred was still there. "Can't you just smuggle me out of here, or something?"

Francis scoffed at the suggested. "_Non_. This is your problem to deal with. _Bonne chance, Sourcils_."

He hung up the phone. He turned around, planning to go back to sleep, but found Matt sitting up in bed, looking at him through the dim light of early morning.

"Forgive me, _Mathieu_, did I wake you?"

"Eh, it's alright." Matt glanced blearily at the clock. "I wanted to get up before too long anyways. It's OK." He stretched and yawned, reaching over to turn on the bedside lamp, then smiled, an idea seeming to form in his mind.

Matthew crawled over to straddle the other's lap and trailed a hand down his torso. The Frenchman raised an eyebrow at him. "Hey, now that we're both awake, I know something we should do . . . "

Well, Francis thought, smirking, he wasn't going to say no to _that_.

Back at the library entrance, Arthur stood looking at his hands and listening to the monotonous dial tone. He hung up the public telephone with a sigh and folded his arms, resting against the wall.

Either way, Arthur had to go back there; he didn't have much of a choice. He had left one of his books in the library, and he couldn't just leave it there all day. The Brit shot a look back through the library window. Alfred's book was still open on the desk, and he had produced a fresh cup of coffee from somewhere, but he was looking around now, apparently growing impatient. Something niggled at Arthur, and he looked away.

Chewing the inside of his cheek, he steeled his courage and walked towards the library doors. Pausing only briefly at the handle, he opened the door and walked inside. Alfred glanced up and closed the airplane book as he entered.

"Finally!" he said, standing up as Arthur strode towards his table. "I thought you'd ran off! I only came here because of you, you know."

The Brit ignored him, picking up his textbook. Alfred put his hands on his hips.

"Aren't you going to say anything to me? And hey, what about going out for coffee later?"

_Damn_. He was hoping he'd forget that.

Arthur stared at a spot on the carpet floor while the American looked at him expectantly. Finally, he said, "why me?"

Alfred clapped his hands onto the other's shoulders and laughed. "Why not you, Iggy Wiggy? I like you. Isn't that reason enough?"

"Humph . . . " Arthur turned away, tucking his book under his arm. "It isn't if the feeling isn't mutual."

Alfred blinked, letting his hands fall to the side. "Oh . . . " he said, letting the meaning of the words sink in. "Oh, OK. I see. Well, sorry. I'll just be on my way then . . . "

_Shit! That wasn't supposed to happen!_ Arthur felt he realized this too soon as he watched the American walk towards the exit doors.

"Wait!" He called. Alfred turned back to look at him with a curious expression. Arthur trotted up to the taller one, furrowing his great eyebrows while a magnificent blush spread across his face.

"One time," he said. "I'll go out with you one time, after I finish the exam. And you have to pay!"

Alfred grinned with the brightness of the sun. Without warning, he swooped down and captured Arthur's lips in his. The Brit's eyes widened and his textbook clattered to the floor, but before he could react further, Alfred pulled away.

"Awesome, Iggy! I knew you'd come around!"

Arthur frowned. "Wait . . . so that walking away, that was all an act? You git!"

"Hey!" Alfred scratched the back of his head sheepishly, peering out at him through his spectacles. "I had to do something! You know, sometimes I don't want to do all the chasing. It gets boring. And besides, you're a tough nut to crack, Iggy – though that's part of the reason why I like you. I didn't really expect it to work at all. To be honest I was kinda surprised when you practically came running into my arms - "

"Alfred," the Brit said, grabbing his collar. "You're in a library. Shut up." And he shut him up using the only way he knew for sure that would be successful: by kissing him. Alfred responded with enthusiasm, pushing him up against a bookshelf.

He was suddenly very glad that no one else came to the library at such odd hours.

OMAKE

"Oh?" Francis began planting light kisses down the Canadian's jawline, pausing in his speech as he did so. "You have – something in mind?"

Matt hummed and tilted his head back, giving Francis better access as he moved down his neck. He placed his hands on his shoulders and wriggled slightly. "Sure do."

"And what might that be?"

The younger blond grinned and leapt off the other's lap, leaving Francis with a confused look.

"Making pancakes!" he said, dashing towards the kitchen.

Francis just groaned and buried his head in his hands.

* * *

Translations (All French)

Sourcils = Eyebrows

Ce n'est rien = It's nothing/Never mind

Moi = Me (obviously . . . )

Non = No

Bonne chance = Good luck

**A/N:** Would you believe me if I said this was based on a true story? The story is actually very similar to something my dad told me that happened to him in university (he was the guy who got the call. Except he's not gay. Obviously I probably wouldn't be here if my dad was gay). I could imagine it happening to the Hetalia characters, so I wrote this.

This is my first-ever fanfiction, hehe. Please tell me your thoughts!


	2. Who Wears The Pants?

Here is the sequel, as was requested! A little later than I hoped, but oh well. It picks up where it left off before. By the way, Austria, Hungary, Italy, Germany, and Prussia all make their appearances in this part (and no more France and Canada, unfortunately). Anyway, enjoy! -throws rainbow sprinkles-

* * *

**Who Wears The Pants?**

Arthur wrapped his arms around the other's shoulders and sighed. The sharp edge of a book pressed into his back, but he didn't really care when Alfred's lips were moving so nicely against his own. He wasn't even concerned that one of the library staff could walk by at any moment and catch him in a lip-lock with the one he seemed so intent on dragging through the dirt.

Everything had been going fine and dandy until Al slipped his tongue into Arthur's mouth. The Brit's eyes shot open. _Too much!_ the logical part of his brain screamed. He turned his head away, and Alfred looked at him with a confused expression.

"You're a distraction," Arthur muttered, pushing the American off him. He bent over to retrieve his fallen textbook, then straightened up, once again avoiding eye contact. "I, uh, need to get to my exam now . . . "

Alfred looked at his wristwatch and raised an eyebrow. "The day doesn't even begin for at least another hour-and-a-half, Iggy . . . "

"Yes, well - " Arthur cleared his throat. "It's, uh, it's a long walk!" He shifted on the spot before turning away, facing the exit doors. He began talking to the wall. "I'll probably be three hours in the exam. Meet me under the atrium, in the main entrance hall. And don't keep me waiting!"

The American shook his head, smiling and chuckling a little to himself. "You got it, Babe." His smile grew into a cocksure grin when Arthur visibly stiffened before striding out of the library.

Arthur let the doors slam shut behind him. _Good Lord,_ he thought, making his way down the vacant corridor. _How can I ever concentrate on my exam now?_

He walked in a random direction, not caring where he went. Really, anywhere but the library was fine with him. After several minutes of walking around in circles, he found a bench to rest upon in a quiet hallway; it would be a good place to resume his studying. Setting down his book, he yawned.

Arthur opened the text and flipped sluggishly through the pages, not paying full attention to the printed words. He cupped a hand around his mouth as he yawned a second time. Against his will, he found his mind drifting back to the library. He sighed and shut the book, staring into space. He was _not_ looking forward to that exam. The date, though . . .

He allowed himself a tiny smile, and wondered why the logical part of his brain had to win out.

* * *

Later, in a different part of the school, a brown-haired girl ran towards her boyfriend, pushing her way through the crowd, occasionally trampling over the odd freshman in her haste. Elizaveta grabbed her love's hand once she reached him.

"Hey," she said, a little short of breath. "Did you get my text?"

Roderich nodded. "Same place every time, right?"

"But of course," the brunette replied, laughing. The two walked down the corridor together, hand-in-hand.

"Arthur's going to be there," Roderich spoke up after a bout of silence. "I think he's going with someone else, too."

"That's good. I haven't really talked to him in awhile," Elizaveta replied, glancing down at their joined hands as she swung them lightly. She looked up. "I wonder who he's going with?" she asked as casually as possible, though Roderich could see a suspicious gleam in her eyes.

The Austrian ignored her question as they rounded a corner. "Oh, and Elizaveta?"

"Yes, Honey?" Elizaveta replied, smiling sweetly.

"I talked to Feliciano. He wants to come too, if that's alright."

"That's fine," she said, nodding. She rather liked the bubbly Italian.

Roderich continued, and there seemed to be a hesitancy in his disposition as they made their way down a flight of stairs. "And he said he's bringing Ludwig along."

"OK . . . " Elizaveta said slowly, unsure where the conversation was headed.

"Which also means . . . " Roderich's expression darkened. "That Gilbert will be coming."

Her sweetness vanished.

They continued on to the dormitories, and the Hungarian woman had released her boyfriend's hand. She walked alongside him in silence, staring at the ground passing below their feet. Roderich looked at her worriedly.

"Elizaveta . . . ?" he said. "Darling, we don't have to go . . . "

She turned to face him as they stopped outside the dormitory building's entrance. Roderich felt a little relieved to see a smile on her face.

"No, it's alright," she said, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. "It's not like I'm gonna let that albino freak ruin my – _our _fun."

Roderich kissed her back before they parted, each going to their separate dormitories. The Austrian had misgivings about the whole thing, but if Elizaveta could handle it, he figured he could handle it too. He was, after all, the man in the relationship. Roderich looked back just once before his girlfriend disappeared around the corner.

The brunette headed automatically towards her dorm room, thoughts filled with what might happen once they got to the cafe, what with the gag-bag assortment of herself, her boyfriend, Ludwig, Feliciano, and (of course), Gilbert sitting in the same room together. A pair of red eyes flashed in Elizaveta's vision, and she scowled. She made a mental note to bring her frying pan along.

* * *

Arthur looked down into his cup of Earl grey, trying to fight the heaviness in his eyelids. The one sitting across from him kept talking excitedly about something, but he could barely register the words. He had been up since four that morning, after all, and he could feel his shoulders sagging, the drink doing nothing to keep him alert. Alfred arched a brow at him as the Brit nearly fell face-first into the tea cup.

"Hey, are you alright? I'm not that boring, am I?"

The green-eyed one jerked up and rubbed his eyes. "No . . . Go on."

Alfred launched back into his long-winded monologue about aliens or UFOs or some other tall tales, and Arthur tried to remain at least somewhat attentive. They had arrived at the cafe a short while ago, about five hours since the Brit left the library. Now, Arthur just wanted to go to sleep. His gaze drifted back to the hot cup of tea in front of him, and the swirls of steam took the forms of unicorns and fairies before his eyes. _Weird . . . _

"Hey! Are you listening?"

Arthur looked up to find Alfred looking at him strangely. "Sorry, what?"

"I asked you a question, silly Iggy. Why did you run off like that in the library? I'm not buying that long walk thing."

"I – I don't know - " Arthur replied, feeling very foolish as his face heated up – and it wasn't from the tea.

"It's just kinda strange," the American continued. "'Cause you looked like you were ready to jump me right there behind the bookshelf!"

Arthur scoffed. "I was not!" After a moment, feeling the blood still rushing to his cheeks, he added, "And don't say such things in public!"

The blue-eyed one just reclined in his chair and smirked. "What was that then? If I can remember back there – and I do! - _you_ kissed me."

Arthur hid his face behind his cup. "Sleep deprivation . . . " he mumbled.

"If you're _that_ forward when you're so tired," Alfred said, looking up from his coffee, "I can't wait to see what you're like once you're well-rested."

The Brit choked on his drink. He considered throwing his cup at him, but decided against it; tea was too precious. Arthur had opened his mouth to retort – having stopped choking – when he was cut off by a loud voice as its owner entered the shop.

"The Awesomeness has arrived!"

The two blonds looked up to find one smug white-haired man entering the shop. Behind him came Roderich and Elizaveta, wearing less-than-amused expressions, followed shortly by one stoic German and an excitable Italian.

Elizaveta scanned the cafe before leading the group to Arthur and Alfred's table. She cracked a smile when the American waved at her.

"Mind if we all sit together?" she asked as the others crowded around her.

"Of course not," Arthur and Alfred said simultaneously. The Brit looked away pointedly, Alfred grinned, and Elizaveta's eyes shone with curiosity.

They said their greetings as they crammed themselves into the booth. Though there was room for seven, Feliciano insisted upon sitting on Ludwig's lap, much to the German's embarrassment. A waitress bustled over to take the newcomer's orders, and Gilbert broke away from the conversation to send her a leer and a wink.

The blushing waitress came back with their items several minutes later, but mixed up the orders between Roderich and Gilbert – the two had bought similar drinks. As the Prussian reached across the table to switch the items, his elbow swept to the side, knocking over Alfred's coffee. Most of it spilled onto the table, but unfortunately for Arthur, some splashed over his front.

"Let me get that . . . " Alfred said, after a moment of silence. While Ludwig did his own thing, mopping up the table – which was a bit a difficult with Feliciano sitting on him – the American grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at Arthur's shirt. Elizaveta watched with rapt attention. When the Brit muttered a grudging 'thank you,' turning a light shade of pink, she ignored her boyfriend's apprehensive look and grinned.

_Yaoi Fangirl Mode: Activated!_

Arthur gave her a strange, searching glance when Alfred drew back to crumple up the napkin. "Are you alright, Elizaveta?"

"I'm fine," she said, still smiling, even as Arthur frowned. Alfred was playing footsie again – and here the Brit was hoping he wouldn't pull any perverted stunts in public. "Say, didn't you find that exam challenging?" Elizaveta took the same psychology course as Arthur.

"Yeah. Really challenging," Arthur gritted out. Alfred had taken to rubbing his leg under the table, it seemed. And while all their friends were there. _Bloody perfect_.

Elizaveta nodded and took a sip of her drink. "I hope you two don't mind all of us sitting here - ?" She gestured with her cup towards the group.

"No, no," Arthur replied, shaking his head furiously. He could feel that stupid blush returning at the American's touch. "It's not a prob-LEM!" He squeaked when Alfred's fingers moved a little too closely to the third base. Arthur slapped his hand and scooted away from him. The others – all except Gilbert, who had chosen that moment to excuse himself – sent him curious stares.

"Vee~? What's wrong, Arthur?" Feliciano asked, having torn his attention away from Ludwig.

The Brit stared at a knot of wood on the table. "Nothing. Nothing is wrong." He ignored the Italian and threw a sideways glare at the blue-eyed one sitting next to him to find him grinning like a loon.

Alfred went on to goad the shorter man good-naturedly. Arthur closed his eyes and pretended to be dead to the world as Gilbert returned from wherever he'd gone. His eyes snapped open when an otherworldly scream sounded from somewhere to his right.

He looked around to see Elizaveta lunging at Gilbert. Roderich was steaming, looking like he wanted to brain the Prussian with his mug. Before he could react, though, Elizaveta had already whipped her frying pan from seemingly out of nowhere, chasing after the white-haired one.

Roderich, Ludwig, Feliciano, and Alfred watched keenly as the Hungarian advanced upon Gilbert, swinging her pan. He must have done something to upset her. While the others were distracted, Arthur let himself drift off again, closing his eyes and ears. He was completely oblivious to the sound of cast iron slamming down on Gilbert's head.

"Think you can snap my bra straps, do you?" Elizaveta stepped onto the Prussian's back while he was down.

"Y-yes!" he croaked out. The brunette lifted her frying pan again, but was stopped when someone shouted at her from the front of the shop.

"Hey!" a female employee said, running around the counter to approach the two. "No fighting in here. You'll have to leave if you can't control yourselves!"

"He snapped my bra straps," Elizaveta explained, digging her heel into Gilbert's spine. Ludwig looked away, and Alfred watched with amusement as the Prussian winced.

"Oh, that's alright then," the employee said. She began walking away. "Carry on."

She left the scene, and Arthur was jolted awake when someone brushed past him. Ludwig had gotten up from the table, thinking it a good time to intervene; Feliciano and Roderich followed him. Alfred glanced at Arthur and smiled. Now he could molest him in peace!

While the Hungarian and the Germans squabbled, Arthur found sleep luring him again. He slumped onto the table. Al paused, reconsidering – feeling him up while he was unconscious wouldn't be much of a challenge. Arthur was much more fun when he could put up a fight.

"Alfred . . . " he said into the wood. "Pay for my drink . . . "

The American chuckled. "You got it, Babe." He tossed a bill onto the table, and Arthur fell asleep.

Alfred looked back at the others to find Roderich and Ludwig arguing while Elizaveta and Gilbert glared at each other; none took notice of Feliciano, who was humming and staring off into space. Turning back to the Brit, Al decided that it would be best to take him home while everyone else was distracted. He slid him out of the booth, surprised to find that he didn't wake up, and picked him up, bridal-style.

No one seemed to notice as the American carried Arthur out of the shop – intending to carry him home – with a smile on his face. The others would just have to do without them.

Arthur wouldn't be very happy when he woke up, but all in all, Alfred thought it was an excellent morning.

OMAKE

Elizaveta dashed out the cafe doors, a wide smile on her lips as she focused the camcorder lens on the retreating couple. She had looked away from the argument when she heard the shop's door close, and after seeing Alfred carrying the Brit in his arms, her yaoi senses had instantly kick-started again. She never thought Arthur would allow Al to carry him around in public; she needed evidence of the existence of this glorious day!

Sighing, Roderich excused himself and turned away from Ludwig. He trudged after his girlfriend. The Austrian didn't know if he would ever get used to her antics.

"Elizaveta, wait . . . " he called after her. The woman ignored him.

Alfred didn't seem to notice Elizaveta trailing after himself and Arthur. He kept on walking as the brunette kept the camera trained on the new couple. She spared a glance back at her boyfriend.

"But Dear," she said, giggling a little. "This is the development of the century!" And it would only be better if they weren't fully dressed, she thought to herself.

Roderich didn't have time to react to that statement. Gilbert tackled him from behind, and if Alfred had been listening, he would have heard the albino saying something about Roderich not being able to control his woman.

Inside the cafe, Ludwig watched his brother hanging off the Austrian's back. He sighed, standing up. Well, he might as well follow them. He ran out of the coffee shop – pausing only to throw some money onto the table – and dragged Feliciano behind him, who was all too eager to get involved in the parade.

Elizaveta, Roderich, Gilbert, Ludwig, and Feliciano all chased Alfred and Arthur down the street, like ducklings following their mother. The American finally seemed to notice the commotion behind him, turning his head as he walked to smile and wink at the camera. Elizaveta just smiled wider, and Roderich groaned.

"Hey, Mole," Gilbert said, snickering, poking the Austrian in the back of the head. "Who wears the pants in your relationship?"

Roderich flushed and continued chasing after the woman who was chasing after the men.

* * *

**A/N:** Egad, what happened? Writing this felt like running a marathon. It's almost nine pages in OpenOffice. I never meant it to be this long o.o;

Anyway, this is totally irrelevant, but recently I succeeded in getting my best friend hooked on Hetalia. She says her favourite character is Italy XD and we joke about the "tomato box fairy." Good times, good times.

One last thing: I'd just like to say thanks to everyone who reviewed and favourited the last chapter. It really means a lot to me! This is the final end, so I hope you like it as much as the previous chapter. Peace!


End file.
